


equinox flower

by spacegirlkj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: “You can always ask,” Saeko assures her, and Alisa feels herself unravel. “When you wonder, just ask.”
Relationships: Haiba Alisa/Tanaka Saeko
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	equinox flower

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for the haikyuu wlw zine that fell through. written in like, 2018, so sorry for being so weirdly out of my style.

_saeko <3 _

_Sent at 00:06_

_img.63_

_Okay the bike is done for tonight!_

_Babyyyyy_

_Are you asleep?_

_Probably you’ve got class_

_I’ll talk to you in the morning then SLEEP WELL!!!!!_

Alisa rubs her eyes, the bright light of her phone blinding in the early morning. She’s caught between cursing herself for taking an eight am class and cursing herself for staying up long enough that she passed out. Her phone has left a strange indent against her cheek, and there's a kink in her neck, but she can't help but smile blearily at the photo in front of her. 

Saeko’s picture mostly centres around her prized possession— a bright red motorcycle she’s been fixing up since she acquired it from its previous owner. Alisa knew nothing about mechanics when they got together, and has yet to retain much beyond appreciation for how much work goes into making a machine run. Truly, Alisa doesn’t spend any time admiring the motorcycle, as glossy as Saeko has shined it. Her eyes instead squint to focus on Saeko herself— blonde bob a mess and in need of a good haircut, bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat and part a mess of crisscrossing hairs. There’s a smear of oil across her cheek, flushed red with heat, and her lips look swollen from all of the biting she likely did in concentration. Those lips spread into a smile that only seems predatory to those who have never had the pleasure of watching her drunkenly sing j-rock tunes on the way home from the bar, who have yet to witness her in all of her innocent beauty while drooling on Alisa’s neck. But the time Alisa spends admiring the effortless, messy beauty of Saeko that captured her attention the first place is nothing compared to the near ten minutes spent eying the spider lily that sprouts over her shoulder. Bright red and thinly lined, each dainty, delicate petal curves under the line of her tank top or onto her back, carefully hidden as to not show under a normal tee. But here, in her work clothes, Alisa can see past the facade, can admire all while wondering when is _too_ soon to ask to see the entire thing. 

—

The story of how Alisa and Saeko got together is a simple one. They met in a bar in Tokyo, while Saeko was barhopping and while Alisa was sipping on mixed drinks with a friend of a friend. One thing led to another, Alisa’s friend leaving with a smile once she caught sight of Saeko swirling the ice left in her glass and staring pointedly at the nape of Alisa’s neck, exposed as she tugs her her long, silver hair into a ponytail. She’s blushing and it’s not because of the alcohol, already grinning when Saeko slides up beside her to ask her name. 

This is how it all starts, in a back alley bar switching between gin and sake or whatever’s cheaper, chasing the bliss and the burn and the feeling that warms their chests. And maybe it’s because Alisa craves adventure, or because Saeko trusts her gut, or because of love at first sight, true or made up to sell romance comedies, but they _click,_ spending the next three days together before Saeko has to drive with her brother back to Miyagi. 

Alisa doesn’t know if she’s in love yet. She’s in a funny in between stage, where they’re long-distance talking everyday, meeting up when it counts, caught in a honeymoon phase whenever they’re alone together, face to face. She _craves_ the closeness, the conversation, the little quirks in Saeko’s speech when they talk. It’s infatuation, care, and curiosity, feelings strong enough in their own right to drive Alisa mad. She’s already the type to fill her books with doodles instead of notes from a lecture, is already a bit ditzy, head in the clouds. Saeko pulls her consciousness all the way to the moon but not quite to her, leaves her longing and tapping her fingers on the desk as she counts the minutes until they can talk again. 

Lately, in these moments where she’s _not_ taking notes, or doing homework, or listening to her brother talk about volleyball or his senpai or some mixture of the two, her mind wanders back to the tattoo. It’s a touch taboo, even among the youth in Tokyo, and a touch more personal than Alisa would like to talk about in a phone call if only because she selfishly wants to be _there._ She wants to look at the petals and run her fingers over every inch of bronze skin on Saeko’s shoulder and wants to see her pride and make her fluster as she admires the true artwork— her. 

Is she obsessive? Starry-eyed? Probably— those words have been used to describe her since before she could ever remember. But now she’s here, with her head lying a pillow and not Saeko’s lap, wondering _again_ and _again_ how it’ll feel to trace red ink down her back. 

-

Saeko comes to her next. They take turns driving down or buying train tickets, spitting the money it costs to get there between them. Alisa is pacing at the front door of her tiny dorm room, checking phone compulsively as if it’ll buzz magically if she stares hard enough. She’s done up her hair into a high pony and is praying to the gods that she looks decent in a banana coloured slip dress with off the shoulder sleeves. She taps her sock feet against the floor and jumps whenever footsteps _thud_ outside of her room, winding her insides up like her stomach is a pitcher about to throw. She’s _nervous_ , an emotion she can’t say she’s well acquainted with. Alisa prides herself on her boldness, remembers how Saeko once said _it’s what makes you so fierce_ on one of their earlier dates. Her throat contracts, and she swallows, just as a knock sounds on her door.

“Alisa,” Saeko half sings, voice still loud when muffled through the door. “You in?” 

Alisa has never moved faster, throwing open the door and falling into Saeko’s awaiting arms. It must be quite a sight— Alisa in all of her one-hundred and seventy-eight centimetre glory curling up and around Saeko, nine inches shorter but strong enough to lift her off the ground. The laugh that rumbles through Saeko’s chest rumbles through her too, and just like that the tension of her ridiculous worries slips from her stomach, rolling away as they move to sit down. Alisa kisses Saeko, and it’s a bit overeager and their teeth _clink,_ but Saeko soothes it with supple lips that taste faintly of melon soda.

“I missed you,” Saeko says, and it’s quiet and mumbled against her lips, as if she attempted to muffle the confession with a kiss. Alisa pulls back and looks down at her in amazement, because the idea that she exists in Saeko’s world still brings her out of the clouds and back down to earth every time it’s affirmed.

“I’ve been thinking about you, like, _constantly,”_ Alisa says, and _oh_ her filter may be gone but it earns her another hearty laugh as Saeko leans into her shoulder. The tattoo is covered up by her leather jacket right now, the black material worn, the scent heavy and warm as Alisa breathes in, gathering her strength.

“I’ve been thinking about— well, I’ve been meaning to ask, about, um—” she stammers, starting over again as Saeko looks back up at her, eyes questioning, bangs falling away. She’s gotten them trimmed, and Alisa nearly gets sidetracked by the impulse to run her fingers through her blonde hair— nearly. “You… have a tattoo, right?”

Saeko lights up, straightening so that they meet eye to eye. “Yeah, on my shoulder-arm area— wanna see?” She’s got that fiery passion back, that toothy grin that comes alongside the pride of fixing her bike or saving enough to buy a new pair of shoes. Alisa nods because she isn’t sure if she trusts her voice, watching as Saeko yanks her jacket off and flings it across the room unceremoniously. She’s wearing a tank top underneath, but still yanks down the sleeve so that Alisa can stare at the design in its entirety.

The lilies that lie on her brown skin are cherry red, with thin, curled petals that wrap up to her collarbone and down the top portion of her arm. They nestle in the crook of her collarbone and move to stretch with her muscles as she further extends her arm, as if blown there by a soft breeze instead etched by a fine needle. Alisa feels her pale skin grow red with heat, fingers tentatively running along Saeko’s skin.

“It’s really pretty,” she says, voice surprisingly soft. She tears her eyes away to meet Saeko’s eyes. “You’re… really pretty. I wanted to ask about that— the tattoo— for awhile now.”

Saeko’s lips part, as if to speak, but she closes them, eyes narrowing slightly in a knowing glance. She leans forwards and kisses Alisa once more, chaste and sweet, before leaning back with her hands still planted on Alisa’s thighs.

“You can always ask,” Saeko assures her, and Alisa feels herself unravel. “When you wonder, just ask.”  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @lesbianiwaizumi!


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